Sin City Vampire Club

by Kristen Strassel

  “Once the band started, the spell shattered, like an electric shock.” She smoothed her top and stood in between my legs. “But overall, I wanted it to work more this time. That’s why it was stronger.”

  “We need to find a place to watch the show where no one will see us.” I jumped off the counter, sliding against Rainey’s body. I was so glad to have her back, even though she’d only disappeared behind a façade for a few minutes. She’d been gone before, and I liked it less every time it happened. I gave her a quick kiss before peeking into the hallway. The coast was as clear as it was going to get. “Let’s see if Tristan’s really off his A-game, or if there’s anything else we need to take into consideration before we make a deal with the devil.”

  “It’s the lesser of two evils,” she said. It was safe for us to hold hands again. I didn’t agree with her. Blade had been clear about what he wanted. Callie and Tristan were complete wildcards. “And you’re assuming Tristan will want to work with you?”

  It wasn’t Tristan I was worried about. I could talk him into it. It was everyone around him that concerned me. The theater was huge, and the stage could’ve been anywhere. The music surrounded us, and we couldn’t use it as a guide. We should’ve waited until after the show to find them. I wished I still had my time travelling abilities. I’d been able to fix most of my mistakes in the past, unless they had to do with vampires.

  Okay, all my mistakes had to do with vampires. But I liked to think I had options.

  No one paid any attention to us, and this time, it was a blessing. Everyone backstage had a job to do. We did too, but we weren’t on The Mistress’ payroll.

  A group of security guards clogged the corridor when we turned the corner. Rules were different here, and they grabbed us roughly without telling us why we were being captured.

  They didn’t have to. We knew.

  Chapter Five

  CALLIE CHABOT WOULD forever be eighteen-years-old, but she’d gained some expertise in the short time she’d been The Mistress of the Las Vegas clan. Her subjects didn’t follow blindly, and with very few exceptions, they were physically stronger than her and had a few more notches on their belt when it came to afterlife experience. She had no room to be weak. The Mistress came to the city as a wide-eyed hippie chick after the same thing every other woman wanted—Tristan Trevosier—but she had to leave that piece of herself behind if she had any chance at survival. She won him over, an unlikely advantage, but vampires like Blade and Rachel drooled at the possibility of kicking her throne off its rickety stage.

  The guards pushed us through the maze of hallways behind the stage with our arms pinned behind our backs. This wasn’t a social call on The Mistress’ behalf. She showed no mercy. I’d forever have nightmares about the place she sent Blade, not only because of its location deep underground, but also the other inhabitants, who lost their humanity long ago. I wasn’t human, but I took advantage of the benefits of passing as one. So when this trip ended with being tossed into an office, I had faith our plan could still work.

  “The Mistress will come for you when she’s ready,” a guard grunted before locking us in the room.

  Surveillance screens covered the entire wall. That was how we got caught. I went into the ladies room with one woman and came out with another. Neither of them were The Mistress. A camera trained on her, she sat at the side of the stage. The music dominated everything, even in this war bunker, and her movements synchronized with the song. She sang along and tapped her hands, keeping time to the beat. It gave me the tiniest bit of sympathy for her. She was lost in Tristan, just like the thousands of people screaming for him.

  “We found a place to watch the show.” Rainey rolled one of the office chairs to the middle of the room and grabbed another one for me to sit in. “Kinda like front row. Think we’ll get our own waitress in this VIP box suite?”

  “If they can get past our bodyguards.” Another screen featured the guards who escorted us here, standing outside the door in case of a jailbreak. It shocked me that they brought us here, inside the brain trust of the operation. They hadn’t thought that through. We had everything we needed. Except the emotion didn’t bleed through the screens like if we were in the theater proper. Even at a distance, the music fed me something I had no idea I’d been starving for. I’d been cut off from other creatives since Cirque Macabre closed. I’d be sick with envy by the time the concert was over. “It’s too perfect though. Like she wants to send us a message.”

  “She probably has no idea we’re here yet. Her goons will give her the good news when she’s done mooning over Tristan.” Rainey made a face in the direction of the screen that showed Callie, then reached for my hand. “I remember when we were like that. When I’d rush through my last client in the lobby so I could pack up in time to watch your show.”

  “We’ll have that again.” We still were like that. The screens were blurry through all the emotion I was too proud to show anyone. Even Rainey. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed it, letting it linger there. Her pulse and my breath were their own song. “I promise.”

  I’d only seen Immortal Dilemma live a few times. I was usually a little drunk and always on a mission, but I always watched for certain things—how the crowd reacted, or an opportunity to get where I was now, behind the scenes.

  This time, I watched Tristan.

  He held my future in his hands as his fingers danced along the neck of the guitar. He used his instrument to lie and seduce complete strangers into giving him anything he wanted. It was exactly what I did with the pole and my flames. Without his guitar, he wouldn’t be whole. He needed to perform. He wouldn’t survive without it.

  The spotlight trained on him as he started his solo. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Red light illuminated his long, dark hair and cast an eerie glow on his face. The theater fell silent as he pulled his message from the strings. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until Rainey squeezed my hand.

  “He doesn’t seem like he’s too messed up to perform,” she said quietly, like her regular voice would break his trance. “I thought he’d be missing notes or playing the wrong song. This is beautiful. I expected him to be sloppy.”

  “The rumors could be wrong. The band parties all the time.” He should’ve been good at it. But sometimes a little wasn’t enough anymore. That was what made me search for more. Something dangerous. And here we were.

  Rainey shrugged. “Or that’s not why the show’s closing.” The end of Tristan’s solo ushered in the encore. “The Mistress will probably be here any minute. You want to run your proposal by me one more time?”

  “Nope. I’ve got it.” That wasn’t true. I had no idea what would happen when The Mistress opened the door. Each vampire had a different super power, and I wasn’t sure what Callie’s signature move was. She managed to destroy my dad, but our crime didn’t warrant that kind of offense. She could come in here with the intention of using brute force or she could listen to reason. I was at her mercy. I needed this dysfunctional clan that considered me something lesser than them to work together so I could get what I wanted. I didn’t have much to offer in return.

  I expected it to go off without a hitch. In dreamland.

  At the end of the song, the band came together at the front of the stage. They shook hands, exchanged hugs, and saluted the crowd. Instead of joining hands for a bow, they reached behind their backs. Rainey saw it, too, and she gasped as something shiny came into view on the monitors.

  Each vampire brought a knife to their throat and sliced it against their skin. Screams echoed off every surface in the theater as the band fell to the stage in a pool of their own blood before the curtain closed on Immortal Dilemma.

  Chapter Six

  “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK just happened?” Rainey’s voice shook. She moved closer to the monitors like the image would change. Not a chance. The vampires lay motionless as their immortality flowed from them. The crowd went nuts, screaming and crying. Guards held them back fr
om rushing the stage. The fans had no idea what was happening on the other side of that curtain. Never had the divide between the living and the undead been more apparent.

  Callie ran to the middle of the stage, cradling Tristan’s motionless head in her arms. She kissed his face, and her lips moved down his body, lapping up his wasted blood.

  “This is insane,” Rainey said. Callie wasn’t the only vampire who went to the middle of the stage to do the same thing. “They’re bleeding out.”

  I felt like I was the one bleeding out, helplessly watching my only chance to get back on stage ooze away. This was much, much worse than getting sent to an underground prison. I watched my hope die.

  The stage was clean, and the band looked like what they were—dead. Callie was covered in Tristan’s blood. Her hair stuck to her face, and it left dark streaks on her cheeks to complement the blood that ran down her chin. Her soaked dress clung to her body. She brought her wrist to her lips and tore into it. I imagined it snapping like the flesh of an apple, and I knew the blood was just as sweet.

  Leave it to me to think of Blade at a time like this. I crossed my legs and squirmed for a completely inappropriate reason.

  She pried Tristan’s mouth open. He was dangerously close to starting the New Year with a true death. It wasn’t the time to be nice or neat. Blood covered his face, but she got enough of it in his mouth that he showed signs of life.

  The other vampires who were on the cleaning crew followed her lead, bringing their wrists to their mouths, but Callie held her other hand up and shook her head. She gave an order to cease and desist.

  She was going to let them die.

  Her minions backed away from the lifeless bodies, unable to rip their gazes away as they left with their stolen blood.

  Rainey whistled low. “Something tells me that wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Not a chance.” My heart pounded as Callie helped Tristan off the stage and into the arms of yet more guards. She put her hands on his chest to steady him. He looked wasted. Blood wasted. They exchanged a sweet kiss like he was dropping her off on her parents’ front step at curfew. I glanced at Rainey, wanting to do the very same thing to her. But now wasn’t the time. “Which makes it an excellent negotiating chip.”

  “Absolutely.” Rainey’s eyes widened as guards hoisted Tristan up, one on each side of him, his arms on their shoulders as he stumbled over to the elevator. Another guard put his hand on Callie’s shoulder, telling her something she didn’t appear to like.

  “Think that has to do with us?” Rainey asked.

  Callie nodded, mashed her lips together, and turned on her heel.

  “I’d bet money on it,” I said.

  The guards outside our door seemed skeptical when the real Callie showed up, but she wasn’t having any of it. I chuckled as she put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. Now I could hear what she said.

  “I’m on the board of this hotel. I sign your paychecks. Open the damn door.”

  She wriggled between them and let herself into the office. I forgot to be nervous. There was no reason to; her own guards didn’t take her seriously.

  “What the hell are you two doing here?” Callie in front of us, with the rotten meat stench of spilled blood clinging to her ruined clothes, was more intimidating. Her eyes glowed, not red like Blade’s did when he was borderline murderous, but a bright green. She was actually kind of hot when she was covered in someone else’s blood. Who was I kidding? It was totally hot.

  I sat in the chair, keeping one eye on the monitors. It wasn’t often I had an advantage. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  She scoffed. “So you thought the way to do that was have this... witch impersonate me? Like no one was going to figure that out? It took the guards all of thirty seconds. You should be happy I’m giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

  “Would you have invited us here otherwise? If I’d asked nicely?” I leaned back in my chair.

  “Okay. Good point.” She fought her grin. She didn’t take me seriously, either. “What do you want?”

  “Why is the show closing? I tried to buy a ticket. Unless I wanted to drop a grand for the pleasure of getting snapped at by you, I couldn’t get one. So it’s not lack of interest.” The fans had yet to leave the theater. They wanted something they were never going to get.

  “Not from the fans.” Callie hugged her middle, avoiding eye contact. “But Tristan had enough of the show.”

  “Enough that he had his bandmates killed as a result?” I wouldn’t have played that card so soon, but Rainey wasted no time with it. “I bet that wasn’t part of the plan, either.”

  “That’s none of your business,” Callie snapped.

  “It wasn’t, until you made it our business. You never know who’s watching you with all these cameras everywhere.” I motioned to the wall of TVs. The one that showed us the stage showed Tristan’s dead bandmates bodies being loaded onto stretchers. “Are you sure they’re actually dead?”

  “You weren’t supposed to see that.” Callie watched the TVs, pursing her lips together. “Why are you here?”

  I took a deep breath. The New Year started with a bang, and I needed my luck to continue. “I asked you why the show closed, and I’m pretty sure I got my answer. But I don’t think Tristan can stay off the stage for long. What’s he got up his sleeve?”

  She sighed. “I don’t have to tell you that.”

  “And I don’t have to tell anyone what I saw tonight.” I met her glare. “I want to work with Tristan. On a new show. Something only we can do.”

  “Like what? You don’t have your fire anymore.” She opened the door to leave. “There’s nothing special about you.”

  She may as well have let my blood drain to the floor and refused my revival. “I’m getting it back,” I said.

  That little bitch had the nerve to laugh. “How?”

  “I don’t have to tell you that.” I took a page out of her book. Plus I didn’t exactly have an answer for her.

  “You can’t meet with Tristan tonight.” Her tone softened. Rainey poked my side. “He’s exhausted from the blood exchange.”

  I wondered if he knew his bandmates had been killed, or if he was in on the fix all along. I raised an eyebrow. “But I can meet with him another night?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “Yeah.”

  “Are you gonna let us out of here?” It wouldn’t be the first time she held me hostage at the Alta Vista, but Callie had already taken out the vampire that threatened her last time—my father. It had been the first time she showed she wasn’t afraid to kill. I may not have my fire, but I was still playing with it.

  “This time I will.” She shut the door again. “But if anyone who wasn’t in the theater tonight finds out what happened behind that curtain, believe me when I say there will be hell to pay.”

  Chapter Seven

  “THAT WENT WELL.” RAINEY clutched my hand as we walked through the Alta Vista. I lost track of time while we were held hostage, but I was surprised by how many fans crowded the hallways. Women of all ages, wearing Immortal Dilemma T-shirts and makeup ruined by hysteria clutched their memorabilia. Tonight they had to say goodbye, for good. Whether they believed in vampires or not—it was up for debate among humans if the band was faking it—these women thought they had forever with their fantasies.

  When a dream died, it took with it the escape from the brutality of everyday life. Dreams were like a cloak against the wind—the world was like a harsher, colder place without them. I knew how the fans felt.

  I shushed her. “Are you crazy? Keep your mouth shut.”

  “Nobody will hear anything over the crying. The entire hotel is a disaster zone.” If they only knew.

  Cold air hit us in the face as soon as we stepped into the garage. Vegas did have a winter—it lasted about two weeks, and it came at exactly the right time. “All that bad energy has to be making Tristan sick,” I said once we were safe in the car. “Along with every other vampire
in the city. They’ll wake up tomorrow night with massive headaches.”

  Rainey laughed, but it didn’t last long. “I wonder how long before people ask questions about where the rest of the band is.”

  Fingers would be pointed directly at me if any information leaked. I was so happy to have an advantage over Callie, I forgot I had no alibi for the evening. And I was on every camera in the place to boot. Awesome. The only thing Callie didn’t have on me was the murder weapon in my hand. I had no idea what her vampire powers were—and I was pretty sure she didn’t, either. She technically wasn’t one of Talis’ vampires, but she had no experienced mentors.

  If she could spin it to look like I had been the one to off the band, I was so screwed.

  Until it happened, I’d keep my cool. I had enough to worry about already. “We need to work quickly, in case other vampires figure it out and Tristan becomes a target.” I sighed. A connection could backfire if the vampires in the city turned on him. I wouldn’t worry Rainey with my conspiracy theories. She turned onto the Strip, driving by Circus Circus, where Cirque Macabre had been.

  To see someone else’s name on the marquee was like being touched against my will.

  Across the street was the gaping hole where the Riviera had stood. It looked like someone had punched the Strip in the mouth, which was close to the truth.

  “We’ve got to get your fire back. Stat.” Rainey didn’t stay on the main road long; the center of the Strip would be a hot mess after one of the biggest party nights of the year.

  “That’s where Blade comes in,” He’d been too quiet since he walked out of our apartment. “He’s probably at that skanky vampire bar.”

  Besides the bar, I didn’t have another way to track him down. No cell phone, no known address. I wasn’t vampire enough to tap into his mind. Most days, I was thankful for that.